


A Guide to getting Kurapika's E-Mail

by Moon_Trine_Pluto



Series: Kurapika's E-mail [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Canon, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Kurapika, Emotional Baggage, Emotionally Repressed, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Kurapika's E-mail, M/M, Mafioso Drama, Mutual Pining, Post-Chairman Election Arc, Protective Kurapika, Repressed Kurapika, Slow Burn, Unresolved Emotional Tension, drunk kurapika, kurapika is a mess, protective leorio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29589489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Trine_Pluto/pseuds/Moon_Trine_Pluto
Summary: When Kurapika agrees to meet up with Leorio, an unexpected visitor from his past intrudes.Kurapika gets drunk and tries to flirt. And will Leorio finally get Kurapika's elusive e-mail?
Relationships: Kurapika & Leorio Paladiknight, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Series: Kurapika's E-mail [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173875
Comments: 17
Kudos: 43





	1. One Night In Yorknew

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for a while now of what would happen if Leorio had actually gotten Kurapika's e-mail? This is the first in a mini series and will center around the how of the question. This takes place Post-Chairman Election Arc, set before the Succession War. I'm not sure if I will include the Succession War or make this series set in a completely alternate canon. 
> 
> CW: Mentions of various crimes. Brief violence. Verbal abuse. Allusions to grieving. A drunk spiel.

Bars were usually not Kurapika’s destination. But tonight was different.

Kurapika sat inside an upscale Yorknew City bar, favoring some warm amber drink that came from the Kakin Empire. He had taken one sip before splurging the mess back into the shot glass. And the bartender had cocked one pitying eyebrow at him. If Kurapika hadn’t been in such a foreign environment, he would’ve spat something akin to, “What the hell are you looking at?” Instead, he’d sunken into himself shamefully, and opted to glare icily at the bartender.

Now mustering the last of his dignity, Kurapika made a point of swallowing a small sip of the liquor. It burned down his throat, but Kurapika refused to show any fragility, squeezing scorching lips shut to smother a gag. Locking eyes on the bartender the entire time. The bartender huffed in response, turning with a shake of his head to stalk off in another direction of oncoming customers.

Kurapika scanned the new faces of arrivals for Leorio’s, disappointed to see he hadn’t arrived yet. Earlier in the month, when Kurapika had finally listened to his thirty-seven voicemails, he’d been _mortified_. Many of the voicemails were from scammers, Melody, Basho, Light Nostrade, loan offers, but the majority from Leorio. He had left ten voicemails about Gon… _dying._ Nearly in tears and in the last one he’d been _sobbing_. So Kurapika had finally called Leorio back and—thankfully, Gon recovered—but Kurapika’s guilt was far from mended. Anyway, their conversation led to today: a mutual agreement to meetup. And despite Kurapika’s adverse social abilities, he agreed in hopes of making amends with Leorio.

For the umpteenth time, Kurapika ran jittery fingers through his hair, checking for tangles. Luckily, his hair had remained unraveled. He put a hand over his mouth, smelling his breath, relieved when it didn’t smell as foul as usual. Giving himself a once over, Kurapika smoothed the wrinkles away from his red tabard, recalling how a mere two hours ago, he’d been debating between the tabard and suit. Even now, his stomach was in knots at the thought of Leorio’s reaction to his appearance. Would he find Kurapika…presentable? Daresay…attractive?

Trying to not feel like an imbecile, he turned away from the bartender and new people, taking in the bar around them with a sigh. Red walls coasted up in every direction, stretching into arched doorways. Low-hanging glass chandeliers dangled above the slew of barstools, a little too close for Kurapika’s liking. If a fight broke out here, he would have to pivot away from the chandeliers to avoid the physical constraints the fixtures would impose for his chains. Or he could hop onto the chandeliers to break them onto his opponent’s head. He scuffed his slipper-like shoes against the black and white checkered floor, even more frustrated with himself than before. A friendly outing wasn’t supposed to be some gateway to a battle to the death. But what if…what if…several different what if scenarios sifted through Kurapika’s head. You could never be too prepared for anything happening…

Then something _did_ happen.

Kurapika spotted a familiar face.

And it was not Leorio.

A man, Morton, who’d given intel to Kurapika about the scarlet eyes, waved at him. Morton was from another mafia family, this one far more secretive than any of the mafia families Kurapika had ever encountered. All Kurapika knew about them was that they were from some kind of swamplands. And from Kurapika’s recollection, Morton was a loan shark in his late thirties, and a little too friendly at times when it came to women. Kurapika’s skin crawled.

Of course, Morton jumped off his barstool, hooting and hollering as he made his way to Kurapika. Unfortunately, the barstools next to him were not occupied, so Morton easily plopped his muscular carcass next to Kurapika.

“Hey Kurapika! Longtime no see!” he blurted.

Kurapika gave a curt nod and small wave, hoping Morton would get the hint and leave.

“It’s been about…let’s see…ten months since the last time I saw you,” Morton said.

“That is correct,” Kurapika said, pretending to take a sip of his liquor.

Morton clapped a big burly hand on Kurapika’s back. “What are you doing out here?”

He stiffened from the contact, debating if the clap on the back warranted a broken nose or broken wrist. Then again, Kurapika did _not_ want to make a scene right now. It was better to lie about his reasons for being here, and to avoid Morton possibly meeting Leorio. Kurapika shuddered at the very idea of that happening. Morton was the kind of man who saw a financial opportunity in everybody and anything. If Leorio got here and started talking to him, chances were that Leorio would mention he was going to school to become a doctor and Morton would offer to help him pay for schooling or bargain something far more sinister for a more immediate end to med school. Kurapika clenched the shot glass around a shaky fist, trying not to lose his cool at the very thought of Leorio being this capitalist’s prey. Stay calm. Must remain neutral and lie so credibly even his own dowsing chain wouldn’t pick up on it.

“I’m intending on meeting a friend who is going through a very difficult time. His grandfather has passed, so he is in the grieving process. He is rather anxious when it comes to meeting new people. I require some space at this time in the event my friend sees us together and is overwhelmed by the combination of his anxiety and grief,” Kurapika lied. “I hope you understand.”

Morton whistled low, shaking his head. “Poor fellow. Losing a loved one is always hard. Hey but I bet all your friend needs is a fun night to feel better! I could buy us drinks—” He elbowed him, so Kurapika made it a point to scoot over to the next barstool to show his displeasure— “and some girls! Some hot action is always the best way to grieve. It takes your mind off it.”

“I’m afraid that would not be fitting for my friend,” Kurapika hissed. Then scolded himself for not being more thorough. Maybe he needed to elaborate more on anxiety. Morton was not exactly, per se, intelligent or anywhere near so. In fact, Kurapika had categorized the loan shark as below average.

“I didn’t even think you had friends,” Morton said, guffawing. “You always have such a stick up your rear. It’s hard to imagine you with a friend…what is this fellow’s name anyway?”

Kurapika froze, squeezing his shot glass, feeling a fissure form. Right away, Kurapika let go of the glass, remaining forward to demonstrate through body language how much Morton’s presence was unwanted. _Name_. No way would he ever give Leorio’s real name.

“His name is Hisoka,” Kurapika blurted the first name to come to mind. Let Morton wander around in search of a Hisoka. They were both matches made in hell for each other anyway.

Morton nodded, snapping fingers at the bartender to order another drink. Kurapika attempted to block out the loan shark’s words, glancing over his shoulder in search of the familiar tanned, tall frame, but immediately groaned when he heard Morton order three rounds of some kind of whiskey native to Mimbo Republic.

Kurapika ran a hand over the bottom half of his tabard, feeling nauseous at the thought of failing to get Morton away. That left only one option then. For Kurapika to wait outside the bar. There were two entrances, and he would make it a point to cover both. He didn’t want Leorio to think he agreed to meeting up only to forsaken him. Kurapika had royally screwed up too many times already. Ignoring phone calls, even being dense enough to avoid giving Leorio his e-mail in their last conversation after being asked. Though Kurapika did have many good reasons for not giving Leorio his e-mail, mostly because he feared the day someone would hack into his account and see Leorio’s information and try to use him as bait to get to Kurapika. He knew too much about too many damn mafioso families. Surely, someone would want him dead. If the Spiders didn’t get him first that is. There would always be other pursuers and Kurapika did not want Leorio to be collateral damage.

Also, what if Kurapika got up to leave and Morton simply followed him outside? Kurapika was going to try one more time to shoo him away. 

“Previously when I mentioned anxiety, did you understand what I was purporting?” Kurapika asked.

Morton gave out a hearty chuckle, collecting three rounds of whiskey as the bartender slid them over.

“It’s one of those mental things, isn’t it? Like thinking you’re sick but you’re not?”

Kurapika resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Not quite. More specifically, my friend has _social anxiety_. Hisoka…is uncomfortable around too many people at once. It’s more effective for Hisoka to meet people in quiet settings—”

“Then why is your friend coming to a bar?”

“Because this is closest to where he lives,” Kurapika snapped.

“You and your friend don’t own the bar. You don’t think I know what you’re doing?” Morton said, downing a shot in one giant gulp. He faced Kurapika with a sudden ire that made his stomach squirm. “You don’t want me around. From the moment I met you, I knew you were no good. You were so sad and lonely like some lost puppy, but too judgmental to do anything about it. And then you came to me asking for info about the scarlet eyes. Then I put two and two together after I heard other people talking about who you really are. You think you’re so virtuous and moral because you’re doing dirty work for a good cause but it’s people like you that always piss me off the most. People like you always look down on me, even though your hands are just as dirty as mine. Say what you will—”

Too many conflicting emotions combated for the upper hand. Doubt. Hostility. Loneliness. Boiling rage. _Resentment_ at the world for allowing Kurapika to reap such an imbalanced life full of misfortune. Kurapika felt the sensation of his eyes turning red, could feel his whole body vaulting off the barstool, fist bawled up with the intention of smashing Morton’s face into a pulp. How dare he bring up the scarlet eyes? _Scarlet eyes_. His people’s eyes. They were sacred, and it was too blasphemous to even hear them mentioned in Morton’s filthy mouth. To think just hours ago, Kurapika had been fretting over wearing his tabard or suit. Contacts or no contacts. It’d been a difficult decision, his nerves frayed because he wouldn’t be meeting just anyone. He’d be meeting Leorio…one of his closest friends and one of the only people who’d seen Kurapika for exactly who he was, all broken pieces included, and refused to run away.

“Is there a problem?”

Kurapika jerked away from Morton the instant Leorio’s endearing voice echoed.

When had he come in? Did he hear everything Morton had just said? It didn’t look like it from the way Leorio stood, shoulders high and big hands jammed into his pants pockets. All tanned skin, hazel eyes swirling with shades of amber and gold, those beautiful windows to the soul flickering in question. He wore a neutral expression, but closer inspection suggested Leorio was suspicious of Morton from the way he leered at him. He must’ve sensed the palpable tension.

“You must be Hisoka,” Morton said, motioning for Leorio to sit.

Leorio gave Kurapika a pointed look. “Y—yeah. That’s me. _Hisoka_. You didn’t mention you’d be bringing anyone else along?”

“You see, Morton knows me from previous business dealings. We were merely…catching up on business acquisitions. Morton was just leaving,” Kurapika explained.

Kurapika deliberately motioned for Leorio to follow him further down the bar, toward a plethora of empty barstools.

They reached the vacant barstools, sinking into two empty seats, facing each other.

“You look…pissed. Are you okay?” Leorio asked, sitting with his back turned to where Kurapika could see Morton fuming on the opposite end of the bar.

Kurapika nodded. “Yes. I—I only gave you a fake name because he’s been bothering me. I did not wish for him to harass you. The lesser he knows of you the better.”

“What’s his name again?” Leorio asked.

“Morton.”

“Oh. Yeah…he looks like an asshole. Did he say or do anything to you…” Leorio leaned a little more forward to Kurapika, expressive eyes full of concern and empathy.

“He was determined to follow me, and said some…things. But all is well now. I’m certain he’ll find someone else to annoy,” Kurapika said, sounding way more put together than he felt.

“What did he say?” Leorio asked, gaze sharpening.

Kurapika swallowed hard, debating whether to tell Leorio the truth or not. He was leaning toward the latter. Judging from Leorio’s temper and conviction to defend his friends, the truth probably wasn’t the brightest idea. Not that Kurapika considered himself on par with Gon and Killua from Leorio’s perspective. Leorio probably felt it was more imperative to defend them since they were children.

He’d seen it firsthand when Leorio had yelled at Illumi in the Hunter Exam for saying disparaging things to Killua. It happened a second time during the most recent chairman election when a video surfaced of Leorio punching Ging on the Hunter Association site. He might have seen the video more than once. Okay, more like seventy times. Then there was the other video, the one that had nearly brought tears to Kurapika’s eyes. The one where Gon and Leorio had reunited after Gon almost died…Watching Leorio cry over Gon had done curious things to Kurapika’s heart. He’d felt faster palpitations and a familiar tightness flood his chest. The same feelings he usually possessed in Leorio’s vicinity. Sometimes, Kurapika wished he could deny the reason for his body’s reactions. Most days, he succeeded in tricking himself to ignore it. But it was entirely impossible to do so with Leorio sitting right here next to him. Which meant lying to him would be unfeasible.

Kurapika settled on a brief answer, saying, “I fully intend to disclose that later, but not yet.”

Leorio gave him a curious tilt of the head before peeking over his shoulder. “ _Kurapika_ , what the hell did he say?”

Kurapika sensed the beginnings of Leorio’s wrath rising to the surface, his friend giving the loan shark murderous looks.

“How—how have you been?” Kurapika asked, hoping to change the subject to something better.

“Well, I was having a great day. We haven’t seen each other in a long while and—yeah, you can’t blame a guy for being excited. But the asshole is killing the mood. Do you want to head over to…my place?” Leorio arched a brow, nervously pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Do you live here now? I assumed you merely happened to be in town. Perhaps to do with medical school.”

It was becoming dangerously easy to tune out Morton’s face in the background. Especially when Leorio gave a small smile and Kurapika mulled over _Leorio’s place_. He actually was inviting Kurapika to go to his home. He resisted the ridiculous urge to fan himself, his cheeks burning, the flush spreading down to his neck and what felt like his entire body.

Leorio nodded. “I’m an intern at a Yorknew City hospital now. It was an easy position to get, you know, with all the crime that goes on here.” He scratched the back of his head. “So…how have you been doing? How’s your quest going?”

Kurapika was about to answer when he noticed a flurry of movement behind Leorio. He groaned. Morton plunked down on the barstool next to Leorio, facing his back with a huge grin plastered on his face.

“Yes, Kurapika. I want to also know how your _quest_ is going. Please enlighten us,” Morton spat.

Leorio’s face twisted into a snarl, turning to growl at Morton, “Can’t you see I’m speaking to my friend here? Not you. Get out of here.”

“You don’t own this bar. I can’t sit wherever I want.” Morton laughed.

“You’re going to own a black eye—”

“Hisoka, does your offer still stand?” Kurapika interrupted.

A prominent blush dusted Leorio’s cheeks. Kurapika swore it must’ve been a trick of the light.

“Yeah, of course. Come on,” Leorio said, standing up suddenly. Kurapika followed Leorio’s lead toward one of the exits, noting how Leorio slowed his pace for Kurapika’s sake.

They were almost outside the bar when Morton’s voice cut through the sticky air.

“You can go on your little quest all you want. Collect all the scarlet eyes in the world. But it will _never_ bring them back. Your people are dead and as soon as you die, their memory will be wiped from this earth. Everyone in the mafia will only remember you as a worthless, condescending prick. You have no real friends. You have _nothing_. They all talk about how boring you are—”

Morton’s tirade was interjected by Leorio, who pointed a finger at the loan shark, and bellowed, “Screw you asshole! He does have real friends and your about to find out how damn real when I—”

Everything was happening too fast. A prickling sensation burst in Kurapika’s eyes. He could feel them turn scarlet, the corners of his mouth trembling. His head pounded, ears roared, ringing. No, throbbing was more like it. Kurapika couldn’t focus on much. Only on the awareness his rage was bone deep, festering in his stomach, making the effort to not punch a hole straight through Morton’s face a colossal one. He noticed Morton approach them, the filthy man grinning with shark-like teeth. Kurapika counted how many people in the bar had heard Morton disclose information about the scarlet eyes. Thirteen. Did that mean he should attempt to bargain with them to keep quiet or…All Kurapika could hear was Morton’s words again, ripping into his eardrums. _You have no real friends. Your people are dead._

Which explained why Leorio got to Morton first.

Suddenly, Leorio shot a fist forward. He hadn’t even closed the distance between him and Morton. Kurapika recalled Leorio punching Ging and—

At once, Leorio’s fist teleported, pummeling Morton’s face. Leorio’s Hatsu. The impact sent Morton backwards, the man flailing for purchase, crashing spine first into several barstools. One of the chandeliers came crashing down, shattering in bits and pieces next to Morton as his head rolled backwards and he used every curse word imaginable.

A collective gasp from other customers echoed.

And then a frustrated shriek.

“Get out of here and never come back again!” the bartender shouted.

Leorio pointed a finger at the bartender. “Gladly! This place is overpriced anyway! You can get twice the liquor for half the price at—” 

Kurapika dragged Leorio by the arm outside the bar, in shock of what had just happened. How did the situation go from trying to deter Morton to Leorio using his Hatsu on him? Kurapika was attempting to put the pieces together, contemplating if Morton would be out for vengeance now against Leorio. Certainly, Morton didn’t live in Yorknew City, but he knew plenty of people who did. Would he put a hit out on Leorio? Kurapika wiped at his throbbing eyes, fuming. While Kurapika worried about Leorio’s safety, he seemed to have other things in mind. Arms waving frantically as people passed them on the sidewalk.

“Hey…are you okay? Say something. I know you’re going to lecture me about how stupid I am for hitting a mafioso, but that asshole had it coming,” Leorio blustered. “So even if you think I regret it. I don’t. He was saying too many things—”

“I’m not…I’m not angry at you,” Kurapika admitted, shocked that for once in his life, he hadn’t resulted to anger.

“You’re not?”

Kurapika shook his head. “I…I regret getting involved with Morton in the first place.”

Leorio gave Kurapika a weird look. “By involved, do you mean romantic—”

“ _No_.”

Leorio sighed in relief. “Good. Because he’s a dick.”

“I’ll explain when we arrive to your home,” Kurapika said. He marched down the sidewalk, not even waiting for Leorio, the glittering city lights sprawled in front of them. The lights at nighttime brought back plenty of memories Kurapika had long since repressed, the affect dizzying. Uvogin. The spiders. Gon and Killua held hostage.

“Where to?” Kurapika peered over his shoulder, asking.

Leorio joined Kurapika, jabbing a finger farther down the crowded streets ahead. He seemed apologetic, lowering his head as he muttered, “It’s several blocks down.”

They walked on in silence, Kurapika livid with himself for putting his friend in danger. Yet again. This was why Kurapika never wanted to get too close to his friends. He was a _liability_.

***

By the time they reached Leorio’s apartment, Kurapika had deduced several ways Morton could be dealt with. One of them was obvious. Kill the bastard. The other: share intel about Morton’s embezzlement scam to his bosses. Surely, the mafia would take care of him then. Another option was for Kurapika to threaten Morton into submission. Kurapika was willing to do _anything_ to make sure Leorio remained safe.

“Here it is. It’s not much, but it’s home,” Leorio said, waving an inviting arm after he’d pushed the apartment number _44_ door open. 

Kurapika followed Leorio inside, crossing his arms over his chest and admittedly sulking over how he might’ve just ruined Leorio’s amicable existence in Yorknew city. He shut the door behind him, locking it for good measure and triple checking it was locked correctly.

Then, Kurapika took in the layout of Leorio’s apartment. The sitting room had a gray couch and television set. A glass coffee table. A bookshelf in the corner of the room, with a desk pushed against the window. On the bookshelf was a framed picture of Kurapika, Gon, Killua, and Leorio together, taken on the day they had parted ways after rescuing Killua from the Zoldyck estate. Seeing this brought back a surge of fond memories. Gon springing up trees, sniffing out for Ponzu’s chemicals on Zevil Island. Killua licking a lollipop and fondly rolling his eyes at Gon back during Kurapika’s first time in Yorknew. And Leorio and Kurapika running up the never-ending stairs during the first phase of the Hunter Exam, Leorio finally revealing his true motive for wanting to become a Hunter. It was the day Kurapika realized Leorio’s heart was too good for this cruel world, even after losing his friend and having all the reason to resent living.

Not missing a beat, Kurapika focused his Nen, squeezing his eyes shut and using his En to detect if anyone was present here. The last thing Kurapika wanted was for them to be ambushed by any of Morton’s underlings, in the event the man had dragged himself away from the pile of glass and made a few phone calls. Still, he would have to figure out who Leorio was and Morton had the wit of an acorn. Better safe than sorry, so Kurapika searched for any presence and quickly inferred it was only them here.

Kurapika kept his En on, Leorio gazing down at Kurapika like he’d just levitated.

“Woah, that’s impressive,” Leorio said. “Your Nen like…grew. That was En, wasn’t it?”

“Yes…and you have certainly improved your Hatsu after using it on Ging. It was more intensive in the bar than—”

“Wait. Are you saying that you saw the video of me slugging Ging?” Leorio asked, motioning for Kurapika to head toward the couch. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face, let alone out of his voice.

Kurapika awkwardly headed toward the couch, sitting carefully and making sure there was a noticeable gap between him and Leorio.

“Yes. If your technique had been more practiced, you could’ve possibly maneuvered both hands onto Ging at once, but I regress,” Kurapika said, wanting to slap himself for being so backhanded. Why was he insufferable?

“Just when I thought you might’ve been complimenting me.”

Kurapika opened his mouth to confirm he had been complimenting Leorio, but feared he’d say something wrong again, so decided to stare at his lap instead.

“Did you eat any dinner yet?” Leorio asked, standing up from the couch and heading to the kitchen. “I have some chicken and noodles left over if you want anything?”

“That is fine.”

As Leorio heated up their food, Kurapika worried at his bottom lip, mulling over how he was going to explain his evasiveness about Morton. And more importantly how he was going to tell Leorio his life was in danger now.

A few minutes later, Leorio came back to the couch with two bowls in hand and a liquor bottle. He handed one bowl to Kurapika, then headed to a cupboard to get out two glasses. He made his way back to the couch, settling down with a sigh of relief.

“So…now are you going to tell me what the hell crawled up Morton’s ass?” Leorio asked, taking a bite of his noodles.

Kurapika squeezed his warm bowl, pinching a chopstick as he moved his noodles around. “Yes. But before I do…I want to apologize.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. That asshole is probably just pissed because you don’t want anything to do with him.”

Kurapika shook his head, stomach plummeting as the truth unraveled. “You see…I previously searched him out because he possessed information about several pairs of scarlet eyes. I…I…allowed my desperation to lapse my reservations. I knew Morton was unsavory, but—afterwards, he must’ve assumed we’d eventually work together again. When I saw him in the bar today, I tried to dissuade him from interacting with me. He’s a loan shark and will prey on _anything_ , and I knew you were coming…which is why I told him your name was Hisoka. I—” Kurapika hesitated, throat constricting— “I suppose I feared the likely possibility of Morton targeting you. He’d get you talking and would offer you a underhanded loan…”

There. Kurapika finally said it. It took all his restraint not to drop his bowl as his hands quivered. Forcing his hands to quit trembling, Kurapika gripped the bowl, shoveling some of the noodles into his mouth to keep from staring Leorio in the eye. They tasted soggy, yet delicious.

“So let me get this straight. You were trying to…protect _me_ ,” Leorio spoke softly, expressive gaze softening.

“Correct.”

Leorio suddenly placed his bowl on the coffee table, reaching for the liquor. He tipped some in one glass before quirking an awkward brow at Kurapika.

“I know you already got started on the drinking. Do you want s—some still?” he asked, voice cracking like he might be nervous.

“I actually haven’t consumed large quantities of alcohol before,” Kurapika blurted. Making a small noise of frustration, he dared to look at Leorio. Would he mock him?

Leorio wasn’t laughing, but smiled. “Woah I didn’t expect that. So do you—”

“Yes.”

Leorio poured him a glass and handed it to him. “I bet you’re going to be a lightweight,” he teased.

A lightweight? Kurapika made it a point to grab the glass and swallow nearly the whole drink in one defiant gulp. He’d show Leorio he was no _lightweight_. His mouth burned but so what.

Leorio’s mouth comically fell open. “Hey! Kurapika, this isn’t some competition. Take it easy or you might get sick.”

“Can I have more?” Kurapika asked, setting his own bowl down. Leorio said he could, so Kurapika poured himself another glass.

They finished eating their food, Kurapika drinking his second glass slower this time, enjoying the way the alcohol relaxed him. Even as Leorio watched him closely, the wheels clearly turning in his head, Kurapika managed to keep his cool this time and commanded his body not to respond by blushing.

Leorio cleared his throat. “Hey…I want you to know…you don’t have to protect me. I’m a _slick_ guy.”

Kurapika was beginning to feel somewhat bolder, scooting centimeters closer to Leorio’s tall profile.

“How can you be ‘slick’ when you’re over six feet?” Kurapika asked, hearing himself sound… _playful_ for once.

“I don’t know but I pull it off.”

“Sure, just like you were slick in the Hunter Exam. You were slick enough to fall into Tonpa’s trap.”

At the mention of Tonpa, they both shared a chuckle. Kurapika couldn’t believe he had actually laughed. It’d been so long since the last time. They delved into a brief conversation about the Hunter Exam. Retelling their experiences and discussing Hisoka and Illumi for some reason. Leorio mentioned that Killua had heard from his grandpa that Illumi and Hisoka were engaged now. Kurapika never thought Hisoka was the marrying type, but maybe he found a love bound by homicides and had to put a ring on it.

Speaking of the Hunter Exam, it reminded Kurapika of another reason he needed to apologize. His heartrate increased, hands clammy, spine feeling too constricting all of sudden as he readjusted his seating. Just imagining what Gon’s condition must’ve been like was the equivalent of being forced to endure hours of torture. It _hurt_ his soul and likely his past lives as well.

“Leorio, there’s something I need to say,” Kurapika said, running fingers over his pant legs. “I’m sorry for not being in contact when you, Gon, and Killua needed me most. There are…no words to excuse my actions.”

Leorio’s hand covered half his face as he said, “You’re right. There are no excuses. Gon…he needed you. He looks up to you.”

Tense silence stretched on for several moments. In reality, the quiet didn’t last very long, but long enough for Kurapika to go through a temporary crisis. Kurapika knew deep down that the few friends he had dared to make a long the way after the Kurta massacre meant _everything_ to him. How could he have been so blatantly selfish?

At once, Leorio stammered, “But—but there has to be more to it…the Kurapika I know, he’d never do that unless he was in a bad place.” Leorio risked a glimpse and looked downright petrified like Kurapika might bite his head off. He wanted to nod his assent and confirm Leorio’s suspicions, but the other part of him refused to cooperate.

“Things…were difficult…but that’s neither here nor there,” Kurapika said warily.

“When’s the last time you spoke to Gon?” Leorio asked, barely starting on his second glass of liquor, wisely taking heed of Kurapika’s refusal to say more.

Kurapika sipped his third glass, shrugging. “Dunno. It’s been…well…perhaps a month. I spoke to him on the phone after he was in the hospital…”

“How did he sound?”

“Complacent but frustrated. He doesn’t like that he lost his Nen.”

“Oh yeah?”

Kurapika nodded.

“Geeze. When I went to see him in the hospital, I met some of his friends. The ones who were there when the Chimera Ants were trying to take over. I get the feeling they weren’t telling me everything and Gon and Killua wouldn’t either. I just…know more happened,” Leorio spoke forlornly.

“Give them time. They’ll tell you when their ready.”

Usually, Kurapika was bound to say the wrong thing, but the alcohol was having a great affect on his social aptitude. 

They fell into amicable quiet. Kurapika took another gulp of his drink, fuzziness swimming in his brain. For once, he didn’t think about the scarlet eyes so much. All he thought about was Leorio. His herbal cologne. Big hands. Warm heart. Tan skin. Tender gaze. Even his long legs and lopsided grin.

“No one has ever defended me before,” Kurapika suddenly said. The alcohol really must’ve been making him loose-lipped because he would never have admitted such a thing sober.

Leorio shyly scratched the back of his head, followed by flexing an arm across the top of the couch. He gave a sheepish shrug. “It’s no big deal. I’d do it again. For—for any of my friends. That asshole had it coming.”

“I—I appreciate it, but it was a mistake because now Morton might hurt you…”

“Hey, don’t worry about that right now. We’re having a good time. I haven’t seen you in what—a year? Almost two?” Leorio reached over, patting Kurapika on the shoulder, his touch leaving a trail of Kurapika’s shoulder warm, his brain short-circuiting.

When his tongue finally worked again, Kurapika said, “I’m going to take care of it.”

Leorio pulled his arm away like he thought Kurapika was offended by the brief physical contact.

“Whatever you decide to do, don’t do anything that puts you in danger. How else are the Kurta supposed to repopulate the earth, huh?” Leorio said.

Kurapika shook his head. “That would never happen. I’m too boring for anyone to stand me.” He finished off his third glass. Speaking his insecurities out loud was conceivable with a few drinks in him. He never knew alcohol could be…enlightening.

Leaning over, Leorio further closed the gap between them, concerned by the furrow of his brows and parted mouth. He had a very beautiful mouth indeed. Beautiful…everything.

“That’s _not_ true. You’re…a lot of things, Kurapika. But boring isn’t one of them. You could find someone one day after you’ve found all the scarlet eyes and settle down and make babies.”

“But I—I’m hopeless. I’m as approachable as a noggin lugging tortoise…”

“No, you’re not. You could do anything you wanted after you’re done with the eyes. Travel the world. Become a teacher. Do noble Hunter jobs. Have you…thought about it much?” Leorio said, Adam’s apple bobbing.

The liquor was _really_ doing a number on Kurapika’s brain. He couldn’t think clearly without detecting another nagging insecurity. He could hardly look at Leorio without devolving into a pining, longing pathetic mess. Most nights, he fell asleep thinking about Leorio. Imagining what it would be like to hold his hand, to…kiss him, and now the alcohol was unleashing his deepest desires. Kurapika wanted to smack himself for allowing all his repression to build up and implode.

Bringing a fierceness to his voice despite the slurring in his words, Kurapika proclaimed, “Not at all. Always assumed I’d die first ‘fore I have a chance to make a real purpose.”

Leorio seemed taken aback by his response, then reached over for the liquor bottle. “I think you’ve had enough for the night.”

“Take ‘hat back, _Leorio_.” Kurapika attempted to reach for the liquor bottle but Leorio hid it behind his broad back.

“Look, I want you to know…and I should’ve let you know a longtime ago that you always have a place to be…here with me. And I know you’re drunk right now, so I’m going to remind you again. Kurapika, you—” Leorio sucked in a deep breath, wiping hands on his pants— “Once you’re done getting the scarlet eyes, you can stay here as long as you’d like until you figure out what you want to do.”

Kurapika’s mind was a hodgepodge of topics. Leorio. Leorio. _Leorio_. When had his shoulders broadened? Had Leorio always been so handsome? Why did Leorio make him feel…safe? That wondrous feeling Kurapika hadn’t experienced since leaving the Lukso Province.

The only thing that came out of Kurapika’s mouth was:

“You ‘hink I’m drunk? No—Leorio, no—no way. You’re wrong ‘bout that.”

“ _Kurapika_ , you are wasted.”

“Right. Wait…I meant to say wrong.”

Leorio let out a laugh, his face lighting up like volts of electricity. The effect was immediate on Kurapika’s body, making him slide even closer so their thighs touched.

A quick intake of breath left Leorio’s kissable mouth.

“Hey,” Kurapika said.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They watched each other for several moments, Kurapika wanting to inspect every piece of Leorio’s immaculate soul. To have such a privilege to sift through a beautiful soul would be—words could not convey how saintly that right would be. Just the mere thought of Leorio allowing Kurapika’s bloodied hands to touch him would make Kurapika combust on the spot. Desire plunged through Kurapika’s very core. Hot, needy, and all-consuming. He wanted Leorio in every conceivable way. 

Words started pouring out of Kurapika’s mouth. So many he never would have spoken out loud, let alone think in the deepest, darkest hiding spot in the corner of his mind. It was only when Kurapika was close to falling asleep or dreaming that he allowed himself to think these things. In his subconscious.

“I ‘ave a secret. I—I’m usually ‘ood at keeping secrets…I—I think you’re adorable. You’re ‘unny and silly and kind. And I’m just—” He motioned at himself in dismissal— “And these hands.”

Kurapika reached forward, grabbing for Leorio’s larger hands. Sober Kurapika screamed at him to _stop_. _Don’t_. _Mistake. Big one. Leorio, will never talk to you again._ But drunk Kurapika risked it, despite the fear of Leorio’s likely rejection. He intertwined their fingers, bringing one of Leorio’s hands over his heart, so he could feel how fast his palpitations had gotten.

Leorio lowered his head, emitting a sharp inhale, followed by a featherlight gasp. Kurapika detected how his friend’s appendages shivered, the exact shade of crimson his face turned.

“These are healing hands. Nice ‘ands. Much bigger than mine. ‘ine look weird and pale and ‘ave blood all over,” Kurapika confessed, butterflies in his stomach. He openly compared the size of their hands, _winking_ at Leorio in appreciation of his assets.

Leorio choked on his tongue or words, then managed to say, “I l—like your hands, too. I—I like everything about you—” He gulped nervously, leaning down to whisper against the shell of Kurapika’s pierced ear— “you’re cute, too.”

Kurapika felt his cheeks burn, could feel Leorio’s breath on the side of his neck and ear. His body pressed closer to Kurapika and—

“No—never thought about it,” Kurapika replied.

At once, the tension was zapped from the air, the heat dissipating. Kurapika could hardly stand not understanding what went wrong. Leorio turned away from Kurapika, clearing his throat. “I never took you for a flirty drunk.”

“Take that back. Am not drunk.”

“Are, too.”

Feeling emboldened, Kurapika sat up on his knees, crowding Leorio against the armrest of the couch as he swayed closer. Dismay plagued Leorio’s profile, his mouth parting. Maybe this would be his last chance for something to actually happen between them, and Kurapika was tired of repressing his desires.

“I want you to _ravish_ me. Like you said you did with ‘hose women in your chairman speech. I—” Kurapika released Leorio’s hands, pushing closer until his knees pressed against Leorio’s lengthier legs. Only inches separated their mouths— “I want to feel your healing hands all over me.”

Leorio shook his head, a glassiness fogging those beautiful hazel eyes. His face went slack, expression crestfallen. He muttered, “You’d never say this if you were...”

“I want you to know I watched that video eighty—ninety times. I like that ‘bout you. You wanted to defend Gon from Ging. You’re always protecting your friends. It’s…sexy,” Kurapika said, making a punching motion. Leorio grabbed his fist jokingly, running the pad of his finger over his knuckle. Warmth coursed from the top of Kurapika’s head to the tips of his toes.

“Settle down, Mr. Badass Mafioso—”

Without warning, Kurapika dropped off, his unconscious head sinking against Leorio’s chest as he snored against his friend’s racing heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed! Poor Kurapika is such a repressed guy. Let me know what you think so far and if you think I should include the Succession War in the series? I'm not sure since I want this to center around Kurapika going on an upward trajectory and the Succession War is pretty dark. Kudos and comments are always appreciated :)
> 
> The next chapter will be from Leorio's POV. We'll see how that goes! I haven't written from his POV yet, so I hope I can pull it off.


	2. Hangover From Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kurapika has a hangover from hell and Leorio is there to help his boy out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the previous comments, bookmarks, and kudos! They are very much appreciated! I hope you enjoy this one from Leorio's POV! It was fun to write, so I might be attempting to tackle his perspective more in the future.
> 
> CW: Vomiting.

Kurapika’s crown of blonde hair rested against Leorio’s pounding chest. In any other situation, Leorio probably would’ve been counting his breaths and fanning himself because hot damn Kurapika sure was well… _hot_. Steaming hot. Like so hot, he’d melt anything in sight. But in this scenario, Leorio physically had to muffle his laughter. Kurapika snored like a foghorn meets the sound Tonpa made when he threw his match in Trick Tower. He remembered back on Zevil Island when he and Kurapika had spent days and nights together, and Kurapika threatening to roll up his sweaty sock and stuff it in Leorio’s mouth because _he_ snored too loud. What a hypocrite.

“Come on, buddy,” Leorio said, letting out a low whistle as he gathered Kurapika in his arms. “You’re a giant hypocrite, you know that?”

Leorio was only met by more apartment rattling snores in response.

He gently tucked the back of Kurapika’s neck against his arm as he carried him toward his bedroom. Hypocrite or not, Kurapika had to be one of Leorio’s favorite people in the world. The guy possessed a myriad of traits Leorio secretly wished he harbored: steadfast intelligence nearing on genius level intellect, resolve so freaking profound Leorio swore Kurapika could probably conjure a rose bomb out of Nen to annihilate the Phantom Troupe if they were standing in front of him, sassy wit, and above all else, a kind heart buried beneath all his condescension and awkwardness. To put it lightly, Leorio found everything about Kurapika endearing as hell.

Leorio made it to his messy bedroom, wincing at the sight of the clothes exploding out his closet and spill of medical textbooks on his bedroom floor. If Leorio had known _Kurapika_ would be in his apartment, he would’ve cleaned up a little. He turned the light switch on, noting the bags beneath Kurapika’s eyes and paleness in his hollow cheeks. Maybe overdoing it on the alcohol had been dumb as hell on Kurapika’s behalf, but at least it gave him the chance to finally catch up on sleep. Leorio noted this would be one of his reference points for the lecture he planned on giving tomorrow: get more sleep, don’t drink just to prove you’re tough (god everybody already knows), and damnit just take better care of yourself. How in the hell did Kurapika plan on finding the scarlet eyes when he didn’t take care of himself? Leorio intended to add that to his lecture checklist, too. 

Very slowly, Leorio lowered Kurapika onto his bed. Kurapika sighed in his sleep, _cuddling_ against the maroon sheets to get more comfortable. It would not be an exaggeration either to say he suffered momentary heart failure and lack of oxygen to his brain. 

When Leorio’s stupid brain finally unfroze, he padded out his bedroom and into the kitchen. He filled a glass of water and took two aspirin out of a bottle he stored away in a cupboard. The stubborn ass would need aspirin in the morning for the incoming hangover from hell.

Leorio returned to his bedroom, putting the water and aspirin on the nightstand next to his bed. Sighing, he reached for two extra pillows, shoving them next to Kurapika, then gently turned him on his side and braced the pillows behind his back. That was much better. So if Kurapika vomited in the middle of the night, he wouldn’t choke on it. Just in case, Leorio flipped out his phone, setting an alarm for every two hours so he could check on Kurapika. The guy was a first time drinker after all, and Leorio _totally_ was not being a chaotic, worrying dumbass. 

Careful not to disturb Kurapika, Leorio maneuvered the maroon sheets, untangling them and tucking the blankets over Kurapika’s body. There.

Taking an extra few minutes, Leorio managed to squeeze shirts, sweatpants, extra suits, and other ensembles into his closet. Also in that time, he piled his textbooks away from the bed. No, Leorio was _not_ fretting over the possibility of Kurapika slipping on a textbook. Not at all.

Last but not least, Leorio grabbed a waste basket, putting it next to Kurapika. With a grin and smartass remark of, “My name is Kurapika and I get drunk just to prove my balls are bigger than Leorio’s,” Leorio left his bedroom, pausing by the doorway. He debated whether Kurapika would be pissed if he left the door open or closed, then decided sometimes Kurapika didn’t know what the hell was best for him and left the door open with a dramatic _harrumph._

***

Come morning, Leorio woke up to a crick in his neck and the sound of Kurapika vomiting. _Shit shit shit._ He tugged his sagging long legs off the couch arm, sitting up fast and headed toward the bathroom, where by the sounds of it, Kurapika might’ve been hurling not only puke but his guts out, too. Wiping an arm over tired eyes, Leorio cleared his dry throat and then rapped on the bathroom door.

“Kurapika! Hey, are you okay? Do you want me to—”

He puked again. And this time, it sounded even worse.

Braving the potential for Kurapika’s wrath, Leorio cracked the door open and immediately the smell hit him. Honestly, after interning at the hospital and learning the ropes, the smells of many and nearly all bodily functions had become like clockwork to Leorio. Still, it didn’t make him any less concerned about Kurapika.

“Kurapika, I’m coming in. So don’t get pissed and choke me out after you’re done blowing chunks,” Leorio said.

He pushed the door open all the way.

Kurapika was slumped on his knees, head bowed over the toilet. He looked like hell. Eyes watery from the force of vomiting, face flushed, chest heaving.

Kurapika stammered, “I—I—”

Then he was throwing up again, heaving into the toilet. Right away, Leorio pulled Kurapika’s hair out of his face.

“Get out as much as you can. When you’re done, I can use my Nen on you to ease most of your symptoms,” Leorio spoke softly between two more bouts of Kurapika retching.

When Kurapika could pull himself away from the toilet long enough to talk, he rasped, “I didn’t mean to wake you…” He clamped a hand over his mouth, forcing his gaze on the floor, looking petrified and extremely embarrassed. 

“Hey, I’m a doctor-in-training. This is just an ordinary day for me. I slept like a big baby on the couch,” Leorio said, deciding if he told Kurapika the truth about waking up every two hours to check on him, it would only stress Kurapika out even more. That was better left for Kurapika to find out about later.

“I’m never drinking again,” Kurapika uttered, wiping a hand over his nose. He then bawled up two fists against the fabric of his pants in frustration.

“Hey, drinking is fun. When you do it _responsibly_.”

“I was anything but that…”

Leorio gulped, mulling over Kurapika’s choice of words. Did that mean he remembered last night or…

“Do you remember anything that happened last night?”

There was a long stretch of silence. Kurapika chewed his bottom lip and flushed the toilet. Stubbornly, he wobbled to his feet, refusing to accept the hand Leorio offered. He washed his hands and splashed his face, then leaned two hands against the counter space and nodded.

“I do.”

Leorio saw Kurapika’s reflection in the mirror. His face was set in a painful grimace, shoulders hunched like he could hardly look at his reflection, eyes brimming in regret and sorrow. 

“Kurapika, anything that happened last night…don’t worry about it, okay? First, we need to get you nice and healed and then you can make fun of me about my messy room. I know you’re dying to do so.”

And just like that, the tiniest smile crept on Kurapika’s face. It was the equivalent to sun shining on a rainy day or a rainbow forming. Either was fitting for Kurapika’s rare but treasured smiles, more valuable than all the money in existence. Not that Leorio would ever admit such a corny sentiment out loud.

“I _do_ have a few suggestions,” Kurapika said, mustering some of his characteristic wit.

“Oh you do, do you?” Leorio said, beaming.

“Yes, but first I require a toothbrush to get the taste of your messy bedroom out of my mouth,” Kurapika managed to say, with a bit more inflection in his tone.

“Why? Were you licking my pillows or something? Trying to taste my scent because you missed me so much?” Leorio teased, bending down to dig through the bathroom cabinet for an extra toothbrush.

Kurapika didn’t answer the question, but Leorio swore he could hear him smother a giggle. Seriously, that noise was the clouds parting and birds singing.

***

“The sooner we get my Nen session going, the faster you can run away from me,” Leorio joked, moving the pillows aside and spreading an extra blanket across his sheets for Kurapika to get comfortable on.

Kurapika had just finished brushing his teeth and hesitantly followed Leorio toward his bedroom. When Leorio didn’t see Kurapika actually inside his room, he rotated to find his friend lingering by the doorway, bottom lip juddering as he crossed his arms over his chest, gaze burning intense holes into the carpet.

“What’s wrong…is everything okay?” Leorio asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Kurapika opened his mouth to say something, probably an insult, but quickly clamped his mouth shut like he either felt conflicted or something else. Leorio couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he decided to go with their usual routine of bickering.

“Come on, Kurapika, I’m dying to show off how much better my Nen is than _yours_ now. Cheadle’s been teaching me.”

Kurapika spewed several indignant noises. “You wish.”

“I’ll prove it.” Leorio sat on the edge of the bed, patting the mattress.

Unclenching folded arms, Kurapika ran hands down the sides of his red tabard. Come to think of it, last night was the first time Leorio ever seen Kurapika wear that red piece and… _woah._ He thought the red brought out the color of Kurapika’s eyes and the blonde ends of his hair dusting the red collar was holy freaking perfection. Leorio had seriously _considered_ complimenting Kurapika on his appearance when he saw him at the bar last night, but then a asshole named Morton had to harass Kurapika and as far as Leorio was concerned, he should’ve taken another few minutes to Nen punch that bastard into oblivion. What the hell kind of issue crawled down Morton’s ass crack? Sure, Leorio knew from firsthand experiences that Kurapika wasn’t the friendliest guy, but _still_. That asshole was completely out of line and just remembering all the hideous things he said to Kurapika reduced Leorio to gnashing teeth. Not that Leorio wasn’t easily enraged already, but that dumb shit raised Leorio’s anger meter to a whole other threshold.

“Do we have to do this on the bed?” Kurapika muttered, and looked scandalized, continuously avoiding eye contact like Leorio might transfer cooties via staring alone.

“Uh…well…there’s more room on the bed for you to get comfortable,” Leorio explained.

Kurapika nodded to himself as if he’d come to some earthshattering conclusion. “Very well.”

He dragged his feet along into the room, his cheeks darkening into a brilliant shade of red. Was Kurapika actually blushing?

“You do know you slept in here last night, right?” Leorio reminded him.

“That was different.”

Kurapika robotically took a seat on the bed and scooted onto the blanket. Keeping his arms by his sides, he lay on the bed, chest rising and falling rapidly.

One of the first things Leorio had learned interning at the Yorknew Hospital was that distraction was key to giving various tests and administering shots. So he applied that same method to Kurapika, who seemed like if his pride hadn’t been on the line, he would’ve retreated into a tense bundle of nerves.

“How is it different?” Leorio asked.

“It just is.”

Leorio divided his attention between concentrating his Hatsu around his hands and making sure Kurapika was comfortable and taken care of. Fern green aura emitted from Leorio’s fingertips, seeping across Kurapika’s abdomen.

“I’m going to put my hands on your stomach. The affect is more immediate that way. Tell me if you want me to stop,” Leorio said softly. Very slowly, Leorio lowered gentle hands onto Kurapika’s abdomen, giving him enough time to decline. When Kurapika didn’t react, Leorio kept his hands in the same spot, the thrum of Nen beating a steady pulse into Kurapika’s body. He could feel Kurapika’s core tighten, could feel the way he swallowed hard like it was taking everything in Kurapika not to bolt. It appeared that Leorio had to step up his distraction game. If he got Kurapika talking, this would be much easier for him.

“Are you ever going to answer the question? We both know I’m good at playing twenty-something questions and being an annoying pain in the ass,” Leorio pointed out.

Kurapika’s eyes fluttered open and shut, the flicker of a small smile at the corner of his lips. That meant he understood Leorio’s reference. Back during their time on Zevil Island while allies, they spent several nights talking. Not anything like an all-nighter conversation. If Leorio ever managed to accomplish the impossible and get Kurapika to talk to him long enough to pull an all-nighter, he would die a happy man. Moving on from Leorio’s silly daydreams, he actually had some good conversations with Kurapika on Zevil Island that started with twenty questions or so. After Kurapika was done rolling his eyes and complaining about how annoying Leorio was, he answered some questions. It was then that Leorio found out Kurapika was only two years younger than him and had previously lived in an isolated community in the Lukso Province. Leorio had even told Kurapika he grew up in Atmos Ville, a small town that was a car ride away from Meteor City.

Kurapika fondly rolled his eyes. “Fine. I was intoxicated so that is substantially different from being lucid.”

“Hmmm if you say so.”

“Leorio, you excel at being a pain in the ass.”

Leorio smiled, winking. “I know. I _love_ being a pain in _your_ ass—”

“Take that back—”

“I like when you say, ‘take that back, Leorio.’ It just brings back so many fond memories.”

“Are you referencing last night?” Kurapika asked, tone softening.

Leorio shook his head. “I meant the first time we met, not—" He realized his mistake too late, mouth falling shut in a regretful, “Uhhhh.”

Great. What the hell was Leorio thinking? Newsflash he was _not_ using his noggin. Kurapika’s face was pinched into an unreadable expression. Awkward silence followed, so quiet Leorio might’ve imagined hearing his or Kurapika’s heartbeat increase to rapid _pound pound pound throb throb._ Okay, it was not his imagination. Leorio’s heart was the one nearing cardiac bankruptcy, the dramatic condition of his heart being indebt to Kurapika and unable to pay since Kurapika would never accept payments in matters of the heart. Or maybe he would accept payments from other people. Just not from Leorio.

Beads of sweat trailed down Leorio’s goose pimpled arms. He wanted to beg Kurapika to say something, anything that indicated he wouldn’t let last night affect their friendship.

Kurapika swallowed hard, bunching his hands against his sides. “I need to apologize for my lewdness last night. When I woke up, I presumed it was all a dream but my headache and symptoms told me otherwise. Leorio, I—” Vibrant color flooded Kurapika’s face— “I never should have said such inappropriate things. I’m… _sorry_.” A despondent glaze settled over Kurapika’s orbs, like he was deeply ashamed.

Leorio had to do something to make him feel better.

“You needed to cut loose. I get it. Really, I do. Life is a pain in the ass. But you…you really needed last night, especially after that shit face at the bar and all this pressure you put yourself under. Anytime you wanna drink to just forget, don’t be a stranger by any means. Just next time you do it, drink responsibly. No more drinking shot after shot just to prove something…because you have nothing to prove. You’re still young and people need to cut you some slack. A lot happened and you’ve handled it a whole lot better than I ever would’ve handled it,” Leorio said, taking a deep breath as his stomach lurched at his next words. “And besides, you flirting with me really boosts a guy’s self-esteem…”

A gulp eclipsing into a shaky gasp left Kurapika’s parted mouth. _Shit._ Leorio was only trying to make him feel better, not overwhelm him. But the truth was that Leorio enjoyed any attention Kurapika spared him. Leorio collected enough willpower to glance at Kurapika, afraid he’d find his friend furious but instead discovered Kurapika as stiff as an inanimate object, entire face beet red, lying on the bed like he was in a coffin.

“I—I shouldn’t have said that,” Leorio apologized.

“What did you mean by that?” Kurapika suddenly said, voice shaky and miffed. “That wasn’t a funny joke.”

Leorio groaned, removing his hands from Kurapika’s stomach. “It wasn’t a joke. Not at all. I just…” Leorio swallowed hard, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to get wrapped up in Kurapika’s chains and get choked out, then again that wouldn’t be a bad way to go. A mental image of Kurapika, beautiful blonde hair flowing, sharp expression set in a determined scowl, chains elegantly pirouetting around him, popped up in Leorio’s stupid brain. It was better than anything he’d ever seen, his spine tingling, and other parts of his body awakening. _Fuck._ Leorio stored that mental image away in a part of his brain listed as “Must Unsee This.” Or he’d be unable to look Kurapika in the eye and the last thing he wanted was to hurt his friend’s feelings.

Leorio brought himself to stare Kurapika in the eye despite every instinct screaming at him to shut up. “All I meant was that…you’re a cute guy and when you were flirting with me…I _liked_ it,” Leorio explained. “It made me feel like _I’m_ attractive, too. And…just forget I said anything. I don’t want to weird you out.”

A gentleness rose in Kurapika’s gaze, eyes awkwardly darting up and down like he was in disbelief Leorio found him cute.

“Oh,” Kurapika whispered.

Leorio held back a smile, unsure if Kurapika would think Leorio was joking again, and spoke quickly, the smile bleeding through his words, “Are you still feeling nauseated? I can keep going.”

“My stomach is feeling much better, but my head is pounding,” Kurapika said, motioning above.

“I can help with that.”

The fern green aura gushed from his hands as he shifted gears upwards, readjusting his seating on the end of the bed. Leorio brought his hands toward Kurapika’s face and—

He flinched, shrinking back into the mattress like he thought Leorio might hit him. It felt like a giant invisible hand gripped Leorio’s heart, squeezing until there was little resistance left. And all that remained was deep-seated hurt and pain, and multiply what Leorio was feeling by a thousand and that might be a quarter of how hurt and scared Kurapika felt.

Leorio used the gentlest tone his vocal cords could produce, saying, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Kurapika shakily nodded, clearly embarrassed. “Go ahead.”

Using light fingers, Leorio sent a surge of calmative aura onto the top of Kurapika’s head. His fingers brushed across his scalp, the emitting aura streaming across his cranium and seeping into his brain. A sigh of relief parted from Kurapika’s quivering mouth.

“Feeling better already?” Leorio asked.

The tips of Kurapika’s ears turned magenta. “Yes. I’m starting to feel the affects.”

“That’s faster than usual. I guess my Nen is improving,” Leorio said, heart skipping a beat at the thought of easing anyone’s physical ailments, let alone Kurapika’s. Strong-willed, driven, genius-intellect Kurapika. The one with enough tenacity to rival thousands of people and enough wit to insult them all without ever having to even look at them. 

“Your Hatsu is…versatile,” Kurapika said.

Woah. Did Leorio actually receive a compliment from Kurapika? And not a half-assed one. That was one for the record books.

“I’m going to have to memorize today’s date and everything. You just gave me a compliment without insulting me,” Leorio said, smoothing fingers over Kurapika’s forehead.

His eyes fluttered shut. “Did you want me to insult you?”

“I kinda like it when you do.”

A small smile materialized on the corners of Kurapika’s mouth. “Leorio?”

His eyes were now open, prodding and gleaming. And the way Kurapika had said Leorio’s name, slight accent enunciating the ending of his name, set Leorio’s stomach into a frenzy of butterflies. He replayed it again and again. _Leorio. Leorio_. 

“What is it?”

“I—I think you’re wrong about what you previously said. When you made your statement about feeling more attractive because of…circumstances…you alluded to not feeling attractive. I believe your assessment is invalid. You…are a conventionally attractive man. You are taller than average and though you are crass, you always have good intentions,” Kurapika said, stare once again flitting across the room, cheeks darkening.

Leorio did not want to prolong Kurapika’s awkward misery, so he chose to giddily laugh and playfully wiggle his brows at Kurapika.

“So…are you ever going to give me your e-mail or what?!” Leorio cried.

Kurapika let out a _giggle,_ quickly muffling it with his forearm. “I’ll consider it.”

“Oh, so he’ll _consider_ it, hmm?” Leorio joked, poking the shell of Kurapika’s ear. “I’m so honored.”

“You are swaying me to decline.” Kurapika frowned.

This time, Leorio full on laughed, overjoyed by their return to normalcy. Their bickering routine was always fun and playful. A shared mutual understanding of Kurapika’s mile-high boundaries Leorio would never dare cross unless invited. So far, it looked like Kurapika’s night of drinking had only strengthened their friendship. Not ruined it. And who was Leorio to ask for anything different?

***

As soon as Kurapika was fully recovered, he and Leorio ate breakfast together. French toast, eggs, and coffee. After succeeding in gulping down two cups of coffee in one sitting, Kurapika excused himself to make a few phone calls. Geeze, at this rate, the caffeine would kill Kurapika before all the enemies he’d made to recover the scarlet eyes did. Leorio did not like the revelation of anything or anyone killing Kurapika. Fuck that. Why did he have to start thinking negative things at a time like this?

When Kurapika returned to the kitchen table, he cleared his throat. “I’ll be taking my leave. I have business to attend to.”

Leorio couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that rattled his stupid heart.

“You sure? You can stay longer if you want…in case your hangover from hell returns. You shouldn’t travel if you’re sick.”

“The business I must attend to is urgent,” Kurapika said, hand nervously picking at the bottom of his red tabard.

Leorio gulped. “Is it the eyes?”

He expected Kurapika to get pissed, to proclaim the scarlet eyes were none of Leorio’s business, but instead shook his head.

“Not quite. My boss, Light Nostrade, is requesting my return,” Kurapika admitted.

“You don’t get enough days off, do you?” Leorio asked, raising one brow.

“Is it that obvious?”

Leorio stood from the kitchen table, wiping hands off on his sweatpants. “Let me get ready first. Then we can go to the airport—”

“That’s not necessary. There’s a cab waiting for me,” Kurapika said, legs fidgeting. He tucked strands of blonde hair behind his pierced ear, the red earring glinting in the fragments of sunlight that poured in from the foyer window. Kurapika seemed… _nervous_. Maybe even anxious?

“I can walk you down,” Leorio offered, saying each word like he was walking on eggshells.

“You don’t have to,” Kurapika spoke quickly. He squeezed his lips, feet awkwardly shuffling side to side.

“What is it? Are you feeling okay?”

It was then that Leorio noticed Kurapika had something bunched up in one hand. A piece of paper from the looks of it. Kurapika startled, noticing that Leorio saw the paper, and then—

He shoved his hand forward. “Hereismyemail.”

Leorio reached for the paper, unfolding it as Kurapika continued speaking, “I’m only giving you my e-mail on one condition. You must agree to check in with me at least once a day. Because of circumstances with Morton, these are _unwavering_ conditions. He is the kind of scum that would resort to seeking vengeance on you. I will be speaking to his bosses, so it’s a matter of time before the danger has ceased.”

The slip of paper in Leorio’s hands read… _bookhunter@uoogremail.com._

Leorio smiled so big, his teeth protruded. But he didn’t care. He was _ecstatic_. Then he couldn’t contain the rush of giddiness coursing through him and before he knew it, he laughed. Loud and boisterous, shaking his head and holding his stomach. Gut-busting chuckles. _Bookhunter_. It was _so_ Kurapika. He probably had read more books in multiple languages than Leorio had read in his entire lifetime, and that realization sent heat pooling to the bottom of Leorio’s stomach. Kurapika’s knowledge never failed to simultaneously impress, intimidate, and charm him.

Suddenly, a hand swung forward and Leorio’s laughter died out. Kurapika snatched the scrap of paper, and Leorio held on with a fierce grip.

“I see this is a mockery to you,” Kurapika hissed, eyes huge and genuinely upset.

“You’ve got it wrong. I wasn’t laughing _at_ you. I was laughing because your e-mail address is…cute,” Leorio explained, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, chest constricting like he might be winded.

Kurapika blinked, flabbergasted as he dropped his hand away from the paper with his e-mail on it. In a rare tell of allowing his emotions to surface, Kurapika’s jaw dropped, mouth open in a silent _O_. A split-second later, his pale features darkened into a flush, the deep red spreading to parts of his neck. After a few more passing moments, Kurapika seemed to gather himself, moving a hand up to tuck parts of his hair in front of his face like he was trying to hide behind a curtain of his blonde locks.

“I’ll be taking my leave now,” he announced, then turned around.

Kurapika fast approached the sitting room, nearly by the front door when a painful lump formed in Leorio’s throat. Would he see Kurapika again? Maybe. How long until next time though? Would it be another long ass time until Leorio could see him in the flesh? This fear spilled over as Leorio all but shouted.

“Wait!”

Kurapika had turned the doorknob already, leaving the front door cracked as he slowly pivoted back around. 

Something intense took over Leorio as he headed for Kurapika, not giving a shit about how desperate he looked. All he could think was Kurapika. _Kurapika_. Who knew how long it would be until they saw each other again? A million things could happen between that time and now. Like Kurapika getting hurt…the idea left a sour taste at the back of Leorio’s throat and the urge to find out exactly what kind of hugger Kurapika was. Would he be a noncommittal patter or snuggly hugger? Or something between those two types of huggers?

It didn’t take Leorio much longer to figure out that carefully guarded secret as he held out his arms and, expecting to be pushed away, was met by Kurapika stepping forward first.

Remembering Kurapika could literally kick his ass to the sky and back, but more importantly had a fragile heart that might break if Leorio wasn’t careful, he stopped himself.

He inhaled, feeling breathless and exhilarated. “Is it okay if I hu—”

Kurapika nodded, matching how out of breath Leorio felt.

With his permission now, Leorio went for it. He wrapped his arms around Kurapika’s smaller frame, bundling him close, and even closer until their chests were flush. Leorio brushed light fingers against the spine of his back, feeling Kurapika sigh against his touch. That little noise, a sound so content yet tense, left Leorio in pieces. He shuttered, body vibrating like Kurapika’s phone probably did from countless missed calls. Leorio’s heart skipped a beat, and when it did palpitate, it felt like a jack rabbit kicking straight through his chest. If Leorio didn’t feel enough like a pining, longing wreck already, Kurapika leaned even closer, his hands running over the expanse of Leorio’s back, the feeling leaving Leorio crashing like the computers he once used in the school library during his earlier days in medical school. To make matters even more difficult, Kurapika rested his forehead right over Leorio’s heart and _holy shit_. Leorio was torn between shuffling back and prolonging the embrace because Kurapika would have to know, right? He had to have heard the increase in Leorio’s heartrate and how he was nearing cardiac bankruptcy once again. And if Kurapika ever found out, Leorio was certain he’d never ever see him again.

With a trembling hand, Leorio brought his fingers up, past Kurapika’s shoulder blade, delicately tracing the trapezius muscle. A shudder ran through Kurapika’s body in response, and just knowing Kurapika’s body reacted like that, did wonders to Leorio’s ego and made him wonder _what if_? Little by little, Leorio warmly grazed the ends of Kurapika’s blonde hair, separating some tangles, his knees buckling as he felt Kurapika’s fingers reciprocate, fiddling at the nape of Leorio’s neck. Heat pooled at the bottom of his stomach—

“I—” Kurapika started, his voice higher than usual— “I should go.”

“Yeah,” Leorio murmured, extracting himself from Kurapika, and very much missing the warmness of his body against his.

Kurapika pushed the door open now, already halfway out the door when Leorio remembered something.

“Hey, Kurapika,” Leorio said, sounding like something was caught in his throat. Looking absolutely stunning with cheeks as red as his tabard, Kurapika halted. 

Leorio cried, “I’m sending you an e-mail right now! E-mail me back, so you have mine. Send me a message when you get to the airport that you made it. Don’t forget or ignore me! I know you think I’m a pain in the ass, but—just do it!?”

Expecting Kurapika to scoff at him, Leorio was taken aback when Kurapika smiled and nodded.

“Yes, Leorio, you are a pain in the ass. But I shall agree to do what you have requested,” he said, glowing, witty, and everything Leorio cared about.

He headed out, shutting the door behind him.

Right away, Leorio scrambled toward the window by his desk, eyeing the cab parked by the curb on the street. He waited with bated breath until he saw Kurapika make his way down, and hop into the cab. Call Leorio paranoid, but he had a terrible gut feeling about that bastard from last night, Morton.

When the cab pulled away from the curb, Leorio pried his eyes away from the window and onto happier news: the scrap of paper in his hand that read _bookhunter_.

Now that Kurapika was out of his apartment, Leorio tossed his dignity to the side, hollering and punching a fist in the air. He had accomplished the impossible. Getting Kurapika’s elusive e-mail. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh if you enjoyed, please comment and let me know if you liked it! I plan to write a second part to this fic, which will revolve around Kurapika and Leorio communicating over e-mail, text, and phone calls and of course, falling harder for each other. I really want to give Leorio more of a backstory in my next fic, since Togashi hasn't given enough detail yet other than Pietro and I've been trying to psychoanalyze his personality to figure it out. I've come up with a few things already.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed! Poor Kurapika is such a repressed guy. Let me know what you think so far and if you think I should include the Succession War in the series? I'm not sure since I want this to center around Kurapika going on an upward trajectory and the Succession War is pretty dark. Kudos and comments are always appreciated :)
> 
> The next chapter will be from Leorio's POV. We'll see how that goes! I haven't written from his POV yet, so I hope I can pull it off.


End file.
